


Another

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5018596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros lulls Fingon to sleep, with benefits to both sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Silmarillion or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Every time he’s about to sleep, Fingon will move, or just fidget, this time sigh, and it brings Maedhros’ eyes open again. Beleriand gets darker than Valinor ever did, but there’s still enough starlight through the curtains of Maedhros’ chambers to slide over Fingon’s side. He rolls on to his stomach, stretching out, and Maedhros blearily asks, “What is it?”

“I cannot sleep,” Fingon mutters: the obvious. “I suppose leaving my own lands unguarded leaves me restless.” Maedhros snorts, and Fingon grins like he knows the lie; they’re not unguarded—there’s just no one else as strong and _valiant_ as Fingon. He corrects a second later, “I am not begrudging this. Every visit to you is worth it, and I would come more, if I could.”

Maedhros murmurs, “I know,” and shifts closer. He puts one hand on Fingon’s shoulder, leveraging over to kiss Fingon’s cheek. Fingon smiles: more something Maedhros can feel than see. Another kiss lands beneath his ear, and Maedhros brushes some of his dark hair away to catch the nape of his neck. Then Maedhros knows he’s too entranced to lie still again, so he shifts beneath the blankets, lifting up so they roll down. He sits beside his cousin and throws one leg over Fingon’s hips, sitting down on his tailbone, bare thighs to either side and bearing Maedhros’ weight. He observes what he can see of Fingon’s skin, though he has it all memorized, and delights in it anew. Fingon is the most handsome creature he’s ever seen, and he’s been across two continents. 

When he’s done just _looking_ , drinking in the beauty of the body trusted to him, Maedhros presses his palms into Fingon’s shoulder blades. Fingon exhales sharply, and Maedhros spreads his fingers, moving out in slow circles, kneading the warm flesh beneath him. There’s tension in all of Fingon’s muscles, as there is in all of them—they no longer hold the peace they used to. But Fingon unwinds easily under Maedhros’ probing hands, and Maedhros massages Fingon longer, simply enjoying the touch. 

They linger like that for a while, Maedhros working steadily, smoothing his hands from Fingon’s hips up to his neck, feeling him in little jabs and languid rubs. He appreciates everything he touches and treats it with admiration and awe. Fingon’s body delights him, awakens him, until his hips are rocking gently in time with the dance of his fingers—he can’t help himself. 

Finally, Fingon muses, “Is this meant to be an innocent massage to lure me to sleep?”

Sweetly and coy, Maedhros asks, “Why would you think it anything else?”

Fingon’s face is turned against his pillow, the gold ribbons left on the nightstand to leave his silken hair free about him and fanned out in the sheets. A sliver of light from around the edge of the window catches on his smile. Looking up at Maedhros, he mutters, “I can feel how wet you are, Nelyo.”

“That is hardly my fault,” Maedhros insists, stopping neither of his motions. “If you were less handsome, perhaps I would not be so sorely tempted.”

Fingon laughs, “You would love me the same if I looked like your brother’s hound, as I would you.” Maedhros smiles, too. It’s very true, but he still enjoys this beauty while he has it. 

Fingon truly is irresistible to him, as Fingon’s always been, and Maedhros finds himself lured down to press another kiss to Fingon’s cheek. His hands dig into Fingon’s flesh, stilling, though his hips still grind across Fingon’s lower back, the blanket in the way of rutting back into Fingon’s rear. Fingon twists for the next kiss, trying to catch Maedhros’ mouth, and then he tries to turn, forcing Maedhros to sit up on his knees. 

Fingon squirms his way around onto his back, facing up with his flushed chest bared for Maedhros’ hungry eyes. Maedhros glances back to fiddle with the blanket, meaning to ride his lover, but Fingon grabs hold of his thighs and tugs at him, bidding, “No, come here.”

Maedhros lifts a brow but listens. He climbs up, Fingon’s hands guiding him and slipping back to cup his ass. When Maedhros’ knees are tucked just beneath Fingon’s armpits, Fingon slaps his ass lightly and chuckles, “Higher. I want to taste you.”

“Like this?” Maedhros asks, surprised at the position, though Fingon just nods, kneading his cheeks with two full hands, so that Maedhros stops to buck forward and groan. He nods a moment later, agreeing to anything Fingon would like. He clambers over Fingon’s arms to straddle Fingon’s face, carefully holding himself up so as not to crush Fingon’s jaw. Fingon doesn’t seem to have any fear for it and holds Maedhros against him, tilting up to run his tongue along Maedhros’ slit. 

Maedhros moans instantly, his hips jerking forward, and Fingon gives him another lick, then another, before shoving up against him. Fingon’s lips seal around Maedhros’ entrance, the heat and sudden slickness forcing him to tremble, and Fingon sucks hard. Maedhros shoves one hand against his own mouth to stifle his cry, the other jolting to the pillow to thread in Fingon’s hair. Fingon sucks him wildly for a few delicious seconds, then returns to lapping at him with an eager tongue, until Maedhros is twitching and rutting into Fingon’s wet mouth, trying to open himself up. Fingon keeps a tight grip of his rear but allows him some movement. His eyes start out on Maedhros’ pussy, but soon climb the length of Maedhros’ lithe body to fix on his eyes, and Maedhros holds them, dilated and heavy-lidded though he is, panting and whimpering behind his hand. 

Fingon’s tongue starts to press at Maedhros’ opening, squirming between his lips to coax him wider, and Maedhros tries to obey. The first push of Fingon’s tongue inside him is ecstasy. He moans and tosses his head back, body arching, hips driving forward. Fingon holds him tighter, forcing him to still, and pushes deeper and deeper with a long, probing tongue. Maedhros pulses around it, trembling and wanting, forever grateful when Fingon pulls out and shoves back in, working into a steady motion and fucking him with it. The only time Fingon pulls out is to curl his tongue against the nub of Maedhros’ clit, each time causing him to gasp and buck. Fingon’s _so good_ with his mouth, and Maedhros rides him until the heat’s all too much. 

Maedhros comes with a cry into his hand, his body spasming to spill in Fingon’s mouth, and Fingon laps it right up with a slew of slick, wet noises and the stench of Maedhros’ release. He keeps shaking afterwards, Fingon licking him right through and wracking out _more_. His pleasure is dizzying, and he forgets at some point to hold himself up on his own muscles, and Fingon has to catch and hold him. 

When there’s nothing left, Maedhros buckles forward, spent and breathing hard. Fingon smacks his ass again: a reminder to move. So Maedhros climbs off, settling down beside Fingon, until Fingon grabs him around the middle and drags him back down. 

They pull the sheet back up, and Fingon turns to him, holding onto him and pressing a semi-hard cock between his legs. Maedhros reaches for it, but Fingon mumbles tiredly, “Leave it—I think I may finally be content enough to sleep.”

“You will be more content if you have had my mouth around you,” Maedhros notes, kissing Fingon’s cheek and earning a bright smile.

“I have already had you twice, and I need some time. But I will gladly have your mouth in the morning, if it is still on offer.”

“It is always on offer,” Maedhros promises, now pulling back to land his kiss teasingly on Fingon’s nose. “Provided you are here to receive it.”

“As devious as your brothers,” Fingon jokes. Maedhros denies nothing. 

He just snuggles into Fingon, their hair and limbs intertwined. Fingon’s still for the rest of the night, until Maedhros has drifted off to dreams of chasing his beloved Findekáno through the woods of Valinor.


End file.
